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The boss is the boss. The chief is the chief. The attorney general is the head lawman. And it doesn’t matter a lick what genitalia they’re toting around.

But there is one thing they all have in common. Every boss and every elected official has an asshole. And it’s become apparent to me that there are too many political bosses in Lansing who are in need of an enema.

Take the case of the back-bencher in the Michigan State Senate, a woman of little renown or oratorial sophistication. She gave me a shout-out on the capitol floor last week during the waning hours of the legislative session. It was my second mention of the day, which triggered a torrent of comments on social media (mostly in my favor). They can’t get enough of me in Lansing these days. I’d like to thank the senator for that.

As a matter of decorum, the senator did not specifically mention my name. As a matter of equanimity, I shall do the same.

However, it wasn’t hard to decipher who she was speaking of. Madam back-bencher weakly characterized me as a card-carrying member of the good-old-boys-woman-haters club after my colorful call-out of the foibles, failings, and fibbings of the ruling class of Michigan, who at this moment happen to be Democrats, and who happen to be women. (See you next Tuesday!)

The junior senator must not be familiar with my work, since the list of my criticisms of those with XY chromosomes is a long one. It includes former county executives, mayors, judges, and chiefs of police. I once referred to former governor Rick Snyder as a cocksucker for his cowardly response to the Flint mass water poisoning.

No one said a word then.

When you’re the boss in the wrong, you can expect a spanking from me. I’ve never covered state politics much. Apparently, the privileged of Lansing are accustomed to pampering from the political press.

From my point of view, if you’re a dude or a chick and you suck, then you suck and I’m going to say it.

In her floor speech, the junior senator took issue with my criticism of her pal, Attorney General Dana Nessel. Nessel has been a disaster by any measure. Just ask the people of Flint. Or Benton Harbor. Or Lansing.

At issue, last week, was Nessel’s exotic vacation to the islands Turks and Caicos earlier this year. According to the junior senator, men like me think powerful women are not entitled to some well-earned R&R.

Nothing could be further from the truth. Rather, I take exception to elected representatives from accepting outrageous junkets from special interests. In the case of Nessel, she vacationed with a prominent Traverse City attorney in an $8,629.65 per night penthouse overlooking the azure waters of Grace Bay.

How do I know that? Because the concierge at the Ritz Carlton hotel there told me so. The concierge also told me that the tab was picked up by the attorney’s law firm.

Nessel and her attorney pal insist that Nessel reimbursed her fair share, but have yet to provide proof.

Imagine if that is even true? The attorney general of Michigan cutting a check to a prominent law firm for a tropical island getaway.

It reeks of Clarence Thomas.

The senator posted her speech, which got a lot of views. Now she’s using it to raise political money. Guv Gretch did the same thing the last time around.

Again, these gals all want a piece of LeDuff!

Curious, I took a glancing look at the junior senator’s campaign finance filings.

What the back-bencher failed to mention in her speech, is that the very same attorney who picked up Nessel’s tab is one of the single largest individual contributors to the senator herself. In the interest of transparency, the senator might mention that.

Also among the senator’s biggest individual contributors, is a snitch from the swamp of Wayne County politics. A man who was caught up in a federal car theft sting. I wrote about him and his political connections, too. All the principal players in that crapacious caper had penises, I presume. Nobody then said a word.

The senator ought to return the money.

Speaking of Wayne County swamps: my mother lives in the senator’s district near a filthy river. There is no movement to clean it up or to shoo away the drug fiends who congregate there under a bridge, shoot drugs, defecate, and burn fires. The dope fiends regularly break into nearby businesses. My mother calls, but nothing ever happens.

The roads in the senator’s district are a disaster. Moreover, more than half the students at the nearby high school are below grade level in math and reading. The power goes out at my mother’s house whenever the wind blows. What happens then? The senator accepts oodles more from DTE, but things continue to worsen. My mother is not happy with her senator, and neither are her lady friends who do lunch. They’ve all written her name down.

Turks and Caicos is the least of Boss Nessel’s problems and should be the least of the junior senator’s concerns.

There is the mushrooming matter of a blockbuster criminal case involving elder abuse, and other high-ranking democratic officials.

The junior senator is now on the record as not giving a flying flip about our most vulnerable.

There are storm clouds on the horizon for these political bosses. And everybody in the junior senator’s district knows what happens when the sky starts to darken. The lights soon go out.

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